


Home

by Kimium



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: But... maybe Laslow/Xander if you squint?, Ft. Inigo's Dancer Outfit, Gen, Localization names used, No pairings... I know shocking, Not that it's obvious it's Revelation, Revelation Route, because I'm weak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 03:45:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12448998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimium/pseuds/Kimium
Summary: Revelation RouteThe itch to dance, to forget about the war in a world that isn't theirs for a brief moment, is too strong. Really, it was only a matter of time before Laslow caved in. If only he was a bit more careful to not get caught.





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**Author's Note:**

> All right!
> 
> Ever since I summoned Dancer Inigo in FE Heroes (I'm still baffled I had a streak of good luck... wish it would come back...) I knew I'd have to write about Laslow/Inigo some time. This story took me longer than my usual one shots, but I'm happy. It was my first time writing Laslow and Xander, so I hope I did them justice. It's been a while since I played Fates/IF. I sort of have an idea to a follow up to this story, so maybe if I sort it out, I'll write it later?
> 
> Anyways, I enjoyed writing this story. I hope you enjoy reading it. Please feel free to leave kudos and/or a comment. They really make my day.

Laslow leaned against a tree, feeling the bark dig into his neck and hair. The tree was the largest and most secluded in Corrin’s little world. Shade covered him from the ever present sunny days, offering a cool barrier. Shifting, Laslow looked up. The tree was expansive, the branches curling and twisting, green leaves vibrant and bright decorating the branches, giving life. Exhaling slowly, Laslow closed his eyes, moving his palms from his thighs to the ground, feeling the cool ground, the prickle of grass blades against his calloused palms. For a moment, the world around him shifted, feeling more like home.

Living in Nohr drained him, poison slowly dripping in his veins, decaying his spirit and heart. Nothing, from the customs, the weather, the atmosphere, and the heavier food was familiar.

 (Laslow remembered when he first ate a crème based Nohr style stew, how Odin had to cast a spell to settle his stomach. He spent the night curled under Odin’s covers, like an illicit stowaway, seeking comfort. Odin spent the night along side him, stroking his hair. The nostalgia that welled up inside of him had burned, tears running down his face. Nightmares threatened to seep into his mind while trapped in the realm of sleep. Laslow had to take deep breaths and remember that they weren’t in a crumbling world. At least, not yet.)

But Corrin’s dimension was a small sliver of reprieve, of familiarity. The air smelt a bit wrong, a bit too tinged in magic (thick with ozone, and slightly burnt, like the air around a candle once it was put out), but the sun and the green were comforting. It soothed his soul, like a balm. If there was one thing their fighting gave, it was a ray of familiarity. Soon, they’d finish this war, save another world and return…

Time was trickling away, slowly slipping through his fingers. Laslow felt his heart squeeze, an ache with burning at the seams, almost ready to burst. His throat clogged up, and Laslow had to force air through his lungs, clutch the ground, feel the dirt and blades of grass dig into his palms like an anchor.

Soon, he’d be home, away from this world, back to the familiar. Laslow could see his parents, watch his mother dance and practice along side her. Laslow’s heart twitched, his mind conjuring the image of his mother. He could see her: pink hair, whipping gently around her lithe frame as she danced, showing him slowly the steps, a smile gracing her lips. Laslow let out a small snort and raised his hand, still covered with a bit of dirt and green from the grass, and touched his hair.

Sometimes, Laslow hated how he didn’t quite look like his mother, his hair just not pink enough. Sure, people always said he looked like her (“It’s your eyes, soft and warm like hers.” “It’s how you move, like your mother”), but he never believed them. Sighing, Laslow dropped his hand, opened his eyes. His hands tingled, his legs aching. When was the last time he practiced dancing? Being at war was a factor, but how could he face his mother when he hadn’t practiced since he arrived at Nohr? The one tangible thing he had that connect him to her was cast to the wayside in favour of blending in.

Frowning Laslow stood up, stretching languidly, feeling some joints crack and pop. Slipping around the other tents, he reached his tent. It was small, but private. Unlike Odin with Niles, there was no way he’d share a tent with Peri. The price he paid for privacy was space, but it was worth it.

Walking over to his chest, Laslow touched the top, feeling the magic Odin cast crack and break at his touch, allowing him to open the lid. On the top were spare vests, shirts, pants, and buckles. Laslow dug his hand under, feeling the bottom, pressing the switch to the false bottom, digging his hands lower until he touched silk.

Pulling the outfit out, Laslow ran his fingers over the golden embroidery of the vest, the metal in the middle, holding it together. Digging deeper Laslow touched the navy fabric that hung off his sleeves, the weightless fabric of the white pants. His fingers let the fabric slip. Closing the lid, Laslow rearranged his Nohrian style clothes on top, so he couldn’t see the bottom, and shut the chest.

Laslow’s chest ached, his heart twisting and curling into his lungs, cutting off his breath. His eyes prickled, the sensation of tears threatening to stain his cheeks. A broken chuckle escaped his lips. Laslow leaned, his head almost touching the chest, his fingers gripping the wood.

There was no way he could wear that here. Why he bothered to bring it along, he wasn’t sure. When they were summoned, before they slipped out without a word, it had been important to Inigo, but Laslow struggled to find the reasoning. Was this what happened when time was spent in a new world? Was he losing himself? Or was he changing, shifting more into the persona crafted in this world?

Laslow laughed again, fingers painfully digging into the wood. What did this world have to offer him? Companionship? Home did the same, and there he wasn’t a lie, walking around with a fake name and fake appearance. ~~(But… if a lie was told enough, didn’t it slowly become the truth?)~~ Home… it was an ache in his heart, a place Laslow was holding deep inside of him. Home was where he could be himself. Not the mysterious, lack of past, mercenary and retainer Laslow.

He snorted. It shouldn’t matter. He could be Laslow for longer, the mercenary and retainer with no past. When this war was done, all that would be left was to tell Xander he was leaving. The future king would have no problem finding a new retainer, someone who got along with Peri and all her quirks. A ruler couldn’t mourn the loss of a single person over a nation. After all, it wasn’t princely of them.

Laslow didn’t realize tears were dripping down his face until he touched his cheeks, feeling the wetness drip slowly off his chin. Why… why was home slowly becoming a further and further place to him? Why was his heart aching at the idea of leaving, of never seeing the people he had met here again?

Xander, when Laslow had asked all that time ago what he’d do if he left, had easily responded. He’d let him go. Xander wouldn’t hold him, wouldn’t stop him. He was free. Laslow could do what he wanted… but a part of him, when he heard that response, ached for a different reason. Freedom to leave was what he wanted… but Xander hadn’t hesitated, hadn’t had a moment of selfishness…

Laslow’s heart burned at the memory and he viciously shoved it away.

There were things to do, he couldn’t dwell in this mind set. Walking out of his tent, Laslow threw himself into his tasks, meticulously going down the list of things Xander asked him to do. By the time he finished, supper was almost ready and his stomach was growling with anticipation.

Somehow, everyone fit inside the dining hall. Laslow wasn’t sure how, but it probably had something to do with Corrin adjusting things with the magic this pocket dimension offered. Heading to a table, Laslow sat down beside Odin, body naturally gravitating to the familiar presence.

“Greetings Laslow.” Odin said brightly.

“Hello Odin.” Laslow answered with a sigh tacked on at the end.

“What’s this?” Odin’s brow furrowed, “Is something troubling you?”

Leave it to Odin to notice. Laslow gave a small smile and shook his head, “I’m just a bit exhausted.”

Odin blinked, his bright eyes piercing through Laslow’s words, cutting easily into the core. His mouth twitched downwards, but it faded with a bright smile.

“I understand. My tasks were piled high today, but of course, Odin Dark finishes any task given.” He grinned.

“Right.” Laslow started to get food, piling his plate. It smelt good, probably because Peri was the cook for the night.

They ate in relative silence, occasional light chatter filtering the air. People came and went, sometimes in flashes. By the time he finished, Laslow was sure he saw majority of their army. Setting his fork down, Laslow stood up. Odin immediately followed.

“It seems this night is good for a walk. Perhaps you’d humour me and join?” Odin asked.

“All right.” Laslow shrugged.

The night air was cool, but not cold. Whistling, Odin started to take the trail that wrapped around the entire fort, heading towards some more secluded places, away from the main hub. Laslow followed, enjoying the breeze and the stars. Sure, the stars were different, but in the end, they still shone brightly in the sky.

“Something is troubling you Laslow.” Odin finally spoke once they were a good distance away.

“Blunt as always.” Laslow sighed, “Not a quality befitting you.”

“When I lace my words with metaphor I’m scolded, and when I am direct I’m also scolded.” Odin mused, “Perhaps I should get a poll going, which one is the worse offense.”

“Sorry.” Laslow winced, “I was just… thinking about home.”

“I see.” Odin softly said, looking up at the sky, “Time passes slowly when something is missed, right?” He looked over at Laslow, a toothy grin on his face, “All that is needed is to close the battles of this war.”

“Easier said than done.” Laslow replied, “But this is the only thing we can do, right?”

“It’s the task that was bestowed upon us.” Odin reminded him gently, his smile fading, “But I sense that is not all that’s bothering you. We’ve oft discussed missing home and others. There is something else you’re keeping in your heart.”

Laslow bit his lip and looked away from Odin, staring at the sky. His legs twitched and his brain flashed to his dancer’s clothes locked away in the bottom of the wooden chest. The ache grew, spreading past his legs, into his core, spreading rapidly through his blood stream. Laslow’s arms felt heavy as he forced them to cross his chest, as though holding his chest would keep the thoughts from seeping out of him.

Odin gently touched his shoulder, eyes bright with an idea floating behind them. “I could keep watch for you, somewhere secluded. My night is free, Lord Leo doesn’t require my assistance.” Leave it to Odin to correctly guess what was wrong.

The idea shot an electric bolt through Laslow. “That… I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” Odin asked, head tilting, “You wish to practice and I’ll keep an eye out for intruders.”

“Yes, but…”

Laslow was biting so hard he was drawing blood from his lip. The image Odin painted in his mind was too perfect. He could dance, feel the connection surge through his veins to his home, to his mother, to everything and everyone he left behind.

“This idea will fester in your mind until you accomplish it.” Odin rationalized, “You’ll be distracted and in turn it will affect your duties.”

It was true. Laslow could see it. His body was aching now, the itch to dance surging hot and rapidly through his veins. His fingers twitched and Laslow could feel Odin’s words taking over. Odin was right… he’d be thinking about the offer for the rest of the evening and into the next morn. Surely about an hour wouldn’t be too much? Just a little bit while everyone was asleep and then he’d be good…

“Very well…” Laslow conceded, “But I got some conditions...”

~

Laslow stared at the wooden chest, the lid open. His Nohrian style clothes were pushed aside, showing the bottom. His hand grazed the wood, lightly touching where the lever was for the false bottom. The nights in Corrin’s dimension weren’t nearly as cold as the nights in Nohr, but they were cool. His dancer’s outfit wasn’t meant for the cold. It was meant for sultry places, so he didn’t over heat and for freedom of movement. Still, he could dance in his regular clothes, perhaps taking off some of the heavier parts, but… it wouldn’t feel right… would it?

Sighing, Laslow glanced at the entrance of his tent. He had to make his mind up soon, or Odin would wonder where he was. Turning his gaze back to the chest, Laslow lifted the false bottom and pulled the clothes out.

Changing into them was almost second nature. His hands moving without a pause, tying things, slipping things on. When the metal went around his arms, Laslow shivered, but continued to move until he was dressed. Stuffing his other clothes along the side, Laslow grabbed the last item, a cloak. It was not the heaviest cloak he owned, but it would help keep the chill a bay as he walked to and from.

Poking his head out of his tent, Laslow looked around. No one was in sight. Carefully, he slipped out, feet lightly pattering in time with his heart. His palms were sweaty and Laslow felt like everything was being constricted inside his stomach. A small part of his brain was on high alert, ready to sound the alarms should he be spotted. It made moving difficult as Laslow wanted to stop every few moments and look around, but speed was key.

Making it to the tree he had spent the morning at, Laslow ducked around it, comforted by the barrier the trunk provided. Odin was already there, leaning against it, arms folded. Smoothly, Laslow dropped the cloak, letting it fall silently to the ground. A small breeze blew past and a shiver ran through him.

“Wow,” Odin hummed, “Those clothes truly hold a piece of home inside of them.”

Laslow shifted, “Thank you Odin. For doing this.”

“Never a task too great for Odin Dark.” Odin boasted before he moved from the tree, “I’ll be on the other side, keeping watch.”

With a flourish, Odin walked around, giving Laslow some privacy. Exhaling, Laslow closed his eyes and let his mother’s words fill his brain. First… stretching… slowly Laslow went through a series of stretches, feeling the familiar burn in his muscles as he moved. Blood pumped and the shivering stopped.

When he felt ready, Laslow carefully began to go through the movements. The dance his mother was teaching him always held a mysterious power. She claimed there was no magic involved, but the energy the dance gave others...

The movements started to come back to him, silently coursing through his veins. Laslow hummed a little, the sound helping him keep time. Twirls and spins, graceful twists of his hands, Laslow did them all. When he finished, his breathing was laboured in a way sword training never left him. Dancing was more than just the movement of his body, it was the movement of his emotions, trying to convey those to others. The intimacy dancing gave was akin to showing a piece of his soul.

Gasping, Laslow took a deep breath and pushed his hair back, continuing. The rhythm started again and he moved, faster, confident. Energy surged, too quickly, too sudden, like a dam had broken and everything was flooding his insides. A giggle welled up in his throat, threatening to burst. How had he survived in Nohr so long without practicing? The giggle burst through his lips in a solid sound, one that harshly pierced the air. Laslow nearly stopped, the sound like a sonic boom in the stillness of the night, but he had to finish, had to complete the dance. Closing his eyes, he let the final steps burst forward until he finished, a hand in the air, as though gesturing to an invisible audience.

“A dance,” Laslow breathed to himself, his voice laboured with exhaustion, “Just for you.”

His legs wobbled and Laslow fell to the ground with a soft groan. His chest was rising from the effort and his hair matted with sweat. The cool air felt good against his skin, proving his workout was worth it. Smiling, Laslow felt the energy from his system evaporate, a stillness filling his heart. Odin had been right; this was good. He could go to sleep, feel rejuvenated by the morning, dancing out of his system for a while.

“Have you completed your dance?” Odin’s voice floated in the air.

Laslow looked over. Odin had peeked around the trunk of the tree. Upon seeing him on the ground, Odin immediately went over, hand extended, cloak secure in his other. Grateful, Laslow took it, letting Odin pull him up. Brushing the minimal dirt off, Laslow smiled and took the cloak.

“Thank you. This was… amazing.”

“It warms my heart to hear those words.” Odin said, “But alas, now we shall steal away to bed. I bid you good night Laslow.”

He motioned to move, but as soon as he did, Laslow felt the support in his legs give. Letting out a bit of strangled gasp, Laslow clung to Odin, a flush filing his face. Of all the times… he could train for hours with a sword and not feel bow legged like a newly born fawn.

“Sorry…” Laslow muttered. “I may need your help.”

“It’s not a problem!” Odin hoisted him so Laslow was close, “Let’s get you to sleep.”

They wobbled over to the tents, Laslow trying to keep his footsteps light, but he didn’t have the coordination. His feet smacked against the dirt. At this rate, someone would hear them. They were trained soldiers after all, most of them slept light… perhaps… he’d have to suck his dignity and ask Odin to carry him…

“Do you need me to carry you?” Odin asked.

Laslow’s cheeks burned. Was Odin suddenly a mind reader? “No… I’m fine.”

Odin hoisted him up and with a burst of energy, got them to Laslow’s tent. Carefully, Laslow pushed the tent open, greeted by warm air. Whatever magic was around his tent to keep it warm inside, Laslow wasn’t sure, but he was grateful.

They hobbled over to his bed, Laslow nearly face planting into his pillow, the bits of metal on his clothes jingling as he shifted. Odin chuckled beside him, voice close to Laslow’s ear. Shifting, Laslow turned his head.

“Thanks… Owain.” He softly said.

Odin’s eyes widened slightly, but a smile filled his face, soft and warm, “No problem Inigo.” He stood up, “I best return. No doubt Niles has noticed my absence, but I shall deal with his prodding on my own.”

“Good night.” Laslow waved, “And good luck.”

The moment Odin left his tent, Laslow tried to sit up, to get changed. He barely got his shoes and bangles off his arms before sleep smacked him harshly upside the head. Yawning loudly Laslow took off his vest and put the clothes in his chest on the top. Flopping into bed with nothing but the undershirt and loose pants, Laslow drifted off to sleep. His heart was settled, body aching with dance practice. Odin was right.

~

Odin was wrong.

Laslow yawned behind his hand for the millionth time that day and shuffled, as though movement would stave off his sleepiness. The list of tasks Xander had given him had barely a dent. If he kept this up, he’d get scolded.

But he couldn’t stop thinking about it, how dancing felt. His memories from the previous night felt too surreal, too good to be true. Everything was seen with a film over it, one that sent Laslow’s heart in a flutter, his body itching for another round of practice.

This was all Odin’s fault.

Yawning, Laslow shook his head, trying to dislodge his thoughts and sleepiness. He had tasks to do. There was no more time for him to schedule secret night practices. If one night left him like this, how would another night? Laslow tried to stick this rational thought to his brain, but it slid off, the burning desire for another round of practice frying all attempts to rationalize.

With a frown, Laslow carefully walked around, hoping it looked like he was doing something, and spotted Odin and Niles. Unlike him, Odin was bouncy, wide awake with sunshine practically glittering off his shoulders. Laslow felt a stab of jealousy, but shoved it away.

“Odin?” Laslow called, “Could I speak to you for a moment?”

Odin and Niles turned, Niles with his smile, one always borderline smug and insulting. Laslow focused his attention on Odin, who was already making his way over.

“Yes? Is there something amiss?” Odin asked.

“Just…” Laslow could feel Niles’ presence creeping up, even though he hadn’t moved. “I was wondering if you could…” How did he word this? “Help me later?”

“Ah!” Odin beamed, energy crackling off his shoulders, “I shall do my best to assist you. Just call to me and I shall be summoned!”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” Laslow quickly turned, away from Niles and his gaze, back on task.

Well, as much on task as he could be.

Yawning one more time, Laslow forced himself to work, sleep always encroaching at the edges of his mind. By the time evening arrived, Laslow felt like he was dragging a rock around on his ankles. Perhaps asking Odin for help this night was not a good idea…

“Laslow? You look sleepy.”

Peri saddled up to him, poking his cheek with a giggle, “Someone didn’t sleep long.” She sang.

“I’m fine.” Laslow automatically replied, “Just a bit tired.”

“Nuh uh.” Peri shook her head, “You’re going to fall asleep before you give Lord Xander your report.”

“No…” Laslow frowned as he reached Xander’s tent, “I’m fine.”

They walked in and Laslow felt like taking those words back. The tent under normal circumstances could be called stuffy. Xander sat with his shirt sleeves rolled, his collar loosely done up, and papers at his desk, an ink well at his elbow as he wrote. But to Laslow, and his sleep deprived body, the heat was welcome, a small voice in the back of his mind connecting the warmth of the room to the warmth of a bed.

Laslow held back a cuss. “Good evening Lord Xander. I just came with my report…”

“Laslow… did you sleep well?” Xander cut him off politely, brow furrowed.

Peri let out a giggle, “See? I told you!”

“I’m… fine milord.” Laslow tried to keep a frown off his face. “Just a bit exhausted.”

Xander’s eyes narrowed slightly, but the subject dropped with a casual wave of his hand, “Very well. Please, your report Laslow?”

Good. This, Laslow could handle. Shoving his sleepiness aside as best as he could, Laslow started his report.

~

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Odin hovered, brow furrowed, “Even Niles made comment on the state of your being.”

“That I don’t doubt.” Laslow muttered, shivering, “But I’m fine. Just… one more night.”

~

Laslow didn’t remember returning to his tent or falling asleep. All he could remember when he woke up was how good dancing felt, how his heart sang. Rolling over, he yawned and snuggled into his covers. Daylight hadn’t broken yet and he had a few precious minutes to laze before he had to get up.

The minutes passed all too quickly. Laslow could see the sun starting to hit the side of his tent. He had to get up…

~

Laslow woke to someone shaking his shoulders. Groaning, he rolled over, rubbing his eyes. Sleep clung to his vision, the figure blurry for all of two precious, ignorant seconds, before Laslow’s brain caught up with his body and jerked into overdrive.

He sat up, nearly slamming his head into the other person’s forehead, eyes wide, fingers grasping at his sheets. Scrambling, Laslow nearly shoved Odin aside, flailing to his chest, opening it with numb fingers.

“What time is it?” Laslow asked as he pulled out his clothes.

“Long enough that I was summoned to wake you from the realm of dreams.” Odin replied, “Lord Xander asked me to fetch you.”

Fetch him. Like some dog. Laslow’s ears burned as he stripped, not caring who was present, so long as he was dressed. “I… I’m sorry Odin.”

“I should be the one apologizing.” Odin answered, “I was aware how much energy dancing and daily activities spends, but I did nothing to persuade you to cease.”

“No… it’s my fault.” Laslow, was dressed. He stood up and picked his sword, securing it around his hips, “I best go now.”

Exiting, Laslow tried to not feel everyone looking at him, but everywhere he went he felt the pressure of eyes, weighing down on his body as he walked to Xander’s tent. Outside, Peri immediately jumped, walking towards him, eyes wide.

“Laslow.” She titled her head, “How are you feeling?” Her lips pulled into a frown. “You’re not… sick?”

“I’m fine Peri.” Laslow let out a laugh. It sounded shaky, “Thanks for worrying. I best… see Lord Xander now.”

Peri gave one long look, before she stepped back. Laslow looked at the tent, his hands warm and his body shaking with a numb anxiousness. Carefully, he lifted his hand and exhaled. Best get this over with.

Stepping inside, Laslow cleared his throat lightly, “Um… Lord Xander?”

Xander turned around from his desk, a couple of scrolls bound and sealed with wax in them. A furrow in his brow vanished a second later, causing Laslow to wonder if he had truly seen it. Swallowing thickly, Laslow clasped his hands behind his back, feeling his sweaty palms.

“I’m… sorry.” Laslow decided a forward option was best. “I didn’t mean to sleep in.”

Silence. Laslow straightened his back and tried to not bite his lip. This was bad. Clearly Xander was upset. This was beyond a little flirting while on errands in town. This was beyond starting bar fights (in his defense, that drunkard wasn’t leaving that poor barmaid alone. Laslow couldn’t have kept silent). He had utterly failed in one of his basic duties: waking up and being on time. He wasn’t sick or injured. Exhaustion ran rampant through the army yet everyone else functioned, Laslow was no exception.

“Are you feeling all right?” Xander finally spoke, his words weighty.

Wait. What? Laslow blinked. It was the same thing Peri had asked. “I um… yes?”

“You’re not ill?” Xander pressed, before a bit of pink dashed his cheeks, “I haven’t been asking too much of you?”

Where was this coming from? Laslow’s heart twitched and his palms became sweatier. Here he was, slacking off, and Xander was blaming himself. A sour feel flooded his stomach and mouth. Laslow furiously shook his head.

“No, no, I’m fine. I slept in. This mistake is my responsibility.”

Xander raised an eyebrow, “Very honest and humble of you. Though if I recall correctly, in a few other incidents, your attitude was vastly different.”

Was it too late to defend past events? Laslow held his tongue. Best not.

“Regardless, I expect you on time tomorrow.” Xander finished before handing Laslow the scrolls, “Please deliver these. One to Corrin and the other to Leo.”

“Yes milord.” Laslow took the scrolls.

His shoulders didn’t relax until he was out of the tent, scrolls tightly clutched in his hands.

~

Laslow was determined to not repeat his trip to Xander’s tent. Diligently he worked, making sure to complete his tasks and train daily. Every evening he would go to bed at a decent time, trying to ignore the flickering of his gaze on the chest. He had cleaned it earlier, folding clothes properly, tucking his dancing clothes in the bottom. Out of sight, out of mind, as the saying went. Laslow tried to cling to those words, but his fingers could feel the ghosting of silk and cold metal on them. His legs aching to move to a silent rhythm, to bring the dancing burning inside him to life.

He couldn’t stop thinking about it. Odin had allowed him to open the door to his hidden passion and talent. Now, the desire ran rampant through his mind and body, demanding attention. Laslow’s heart felt a spike of fear, thick and opaque. He doubled his efforts, making sure to go to bed feet dragging, eyes drooping, and yawns escaping his throat.

But the burning didn’t stop. It grew, like a forest fire, consuming everything with fire and smoke billowing in his lungs. Everything screamed, demanding he dance, practice once more. Laslow tried to use the balm of “soon”. Soon he’d be home, back where he belonged, away from this world.

It was like throwing a pitcher of water at the forest fire. The desire grew and grew. Laslow went to bed, dreaming, visions of his mother dancing playing, him dancing with her plaguing his mind. Laslow doubled his efforts. It only caused him to have restless nights and stretched out days.

“Laslow, a word?” Xander finally called out to him after breakfast.

“Yes milord?” A yawn tacked on the end of his words.

“In private.” Xander added.

Trailing behind Xander, Laslow followed him to his tent, slipping inside a moment after. Laslow shuffled. The last time he was here, he was in trouble. How? He had been working hard, arriving on time, doing his tasks… what was wrong? He couldn’t be in trouble this time… right? A chill ran down his spine.

“Milord, whatever wrong I’ve done, I’m not aware what it is.” Laslow started.

“Done?” Xander cut him off, blinking, “Is this a confession?”

Laslow clamped his mouth shut audibly, “No…”

“I am merely worried about you.” Xander continued, “You’re working a bit too… zealously.”

“I am?” Laslow wished his voice sounded stronger, to counter Xander’s accusation.

“Don’t try to play ignorant.” Xander firmly said, “While I always appreciate your hard work, you need not run yourself to the ground. Just be cautious. I need you ready for anything at any time.”

Great. He dances at night and gets in trouble. He stops dancing at night and the thought of dancing gets him in trouble. Laslow held back a long groan. He couldn’t win…

“Do you have nothing to say?” Xander asked.

“No milord.” Laslow breathed out, a bit of his groan weaving into his voice, “If you’d pardon me?”

Xander’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t stop Laslow from leaving.

~

His encounter with Xander swirled in Laslow’s mind the rest of the day, popping up at the wrong times, mixing with the desire to dance. His mind wandered all throughout meal times and during training, Selena managed to knock his sword from his hands, the blunt edge of her blade digging into his arm as he fell to the ground.

“What is wrong with you?” Selena snapped, her eyes narrowing.

“No idea.” Laslow muttered.

She gave a long look and then stepped back, letting him get back to his feet. Laslow shook his thoughts away and tried his best to focus.

Training didn’t go well.

Laslow left the Arena that evening, feeling sore in places he didn’t usually feel sore and his mind still swirling. Was there no right answer? The window he had for practicing dancing was limited. There was no way he could arrange it any other way. Either he practiced, or he didn’t. Both situations still yielding the result of Xander wondering about him, thinking something was amiss. What should he do?

Slipping into the baths, Laslow quickly stripped and went in. A shower later he was soaking in the large hot spring, muscles relaxing almost instantly. Lazily, he watched the steam drift off through the open roof. When his body felt too warm and his head spinning from the heat, Laslow got out, dried off, and changed.

The heat from the hot spring lingered in his muscles and bones, making his steps lighter. Night was descending, the stars coming out. Laslow paused, looking back at the sky. Without the steam obscuring his vision, he could see the stars, the unfamiliar stars. Though Laslow wasn’t an expert at reading the sky, he could still tell nothing was in the right place. It just made his heart ache, reminding him silently of home.

Soon. Soon they’d be back. Laslow held onto the phrase, despite the stabbing in his heart. Returning to his tent, Laslow prepared for bed, stripping off his outer layers, putting his sword off the side, when his gaze caught his wooden chest. His fingers felt the ghosting of silk across them and Laslow nearly jammed his fingers into a buckle.

No… he wasn’t going to go dancing. It was too late. Odin was most likely asleep, unable to help him keep look out. Going out was a bad idea…

Laslow wished his heart hurt more when he pulled his dancer’s clothes out. Instead, his mind stopped buzzing and his heart rested.

~

 Carefully, Laslow slipped out into the night, his cloak drawn over him as he hurried over to the tree. Slipping behind it, he let out a sigh of relief. A bit of a breeze picked up, but Laslow didn’t feel cold. All he could think of was dancing. It was enough to cause his blood to pound furiously in his chest and body. With a simple twist of his hand, Laslow undid the clasp to his cloak, letting the fabric fall soundlessly to the ground.

The stretches left Laslow’s limbs aching and a smile on his face. His body felt the blood flow smoother in his veins. Straightening his back, Laslow smoothly started to go through the steps, his body following the silent rhythm in his head. Everything melted away: his fatigue, Xander’s worrying, his ache for home… all of it vanished. Instead, dancing melted in Laslow’s body. This was what he wanted, what he needed. Laslow let out a small laugh and was about to twirl, moving onto the second movement of the dance, when he heard a twig snap.

Immediately the euphoria vanished, his smile and laughter disappearing. Laslow whipped his head around, heart pounding viciously in his chest. His breath stilled when Xander walked around the tree. He was wearing looser clothes and had no armour, but his presence was still solid. Laslow nearly tripped as he stood upright, heart pounding away.

“Uh… good evening?” Laslow squeaked.

“Good evening.” Xander didn’t waver, but Laslow swore he could see a bit of pink at the tips of his ears, “So… this is what you’ve been doing.”

It wasn’t a question. Laslow licked his lips, trying to think of the words to say, “I uh… yes?”

“I spotted you, accidentally.” Xander said, as though he needed to clarify for Laslow. His gaze fell heavily on Laslow. “I was wondering if perhaps something was bothering you. Curiosity won in the end.”

A beat, a skip in his heart. Laslow shivered, crossing his arms over his chest, “I see… I uh… just wanted practice.”

“You dance?” Xander’s voice rose at the end. Laslow didn’t think he needed to phrase it as a question.

“I… sort of.” Laslow swallowed.

“I’ve never seen dancer’s clothes like yours.” Xander added before his eyes widened slightly, “I don’t mean any offense.”

“None taken…” Laslow weakly replied. He’d be surprised if Xander had seen them before.

“I suppose this answers my concerns.” Xander mused, “Why you were tired and unfocused. Did you think I’d be upset to learn about this? You need not sneak around like a thief at night.”

Laslow’s cheeks were burning. How could he tell Xander it was because he was missing home? Home was a taboo subject, one he never brought up less Selena or Odin get upset. There were many reasons layering his deception, reasons he couldn’t explain. So, he settled on nodding, on taking Xander’s suspicions and making them true.

“I’m sorry.” Laslow muttered. For conforming to the lie. For concealing the truth.

“Laslow…” Xander sighed lightly, “Speaking… not as your Lord… you know I’d never stop you from a hobby.”

His words only made Laslow’s lie hurt more, drilling deeper into his heart, Laslow forced himself to stuff the aching away.

“I’m sorry.” Laslow repeated, “Though… there is more than one reason I choose to dance at night. I…” Laslow hoped the blush forming on his cheeks was not read as guilt, “Don’t like crowds.”

Xander’s eyes flashed, widening, “I’m… terribly sorry. Accept my apology. I didn’t mean to cause you discomfort.”

“It’s… all right.” Laslow gave a small smile, “I didn’t realize you were present.”

“I can leave.” Xander assured him, “Though I do expect you to be awake and on time tomorrow morning.”

“R-Right.” Laslow shuffled, “Have a good evening then, milord.”

“The same to you Laslow.” Xander gave a smile before his eyes softened, “You know, perhaps if you’d allow me, I’d like to watch your dancing again.” He paused, “Just me though, if you like. I don’t want you uncomfortable.”

The strangled gasp that left Laslow’s lips was too loud to conceal it. His cheeks burned and suddenly his mother’s words drifted in his mind. Laslow scrambled, wishing he had something to cling to, but all he could do was tug on the extra fabric around his waist, the fabric just there to add flair when he twirled. Xander stepped forward, hands out, as though he was ready to help steady him.

“Laslow?”

“I…” Laslow’s entire body was warm, “That’s…”

He buried his face into his hands. His mind still reeled from Xander’s words and he was not strong enough to stop the embarrassment from flooding his veins. This was terrible. How did Xander reduce him to this? And accidently?

“Laslow? Please tell me, what’s wrong?” Xander’s voice was getting closer.

Should he tell? Just imagining saying the words made Laslow flinch, but keeping silent would cause Xander to just worry more. Sure, if Xander actually pondered on his statement he could be in trouble. Silently Laslow sent an apology to Selena and Odin. Best suck it up. He could do this. Just… keep a steady voice…

“I… it’s just…” Laslow forced his mouth to move, “Where my mother is from… traditionally…dancing alone for someone not family… is…considered amarriageproposal.” He hastily finished his sentence.

His words pierced the air, followed by a string of silence. Laslow shook, his hands gripping the fabric so tightly a small part of him hoped he wasn’t tearing anything. Xander blinked and Laslow shuffled, painfully watching as his words registered in Xander’s mind. Suddenly Xander had a bit of pink across his face.

“Oh… is that…” Xander coughed, straightening his back, “I… wasn’t aware of such a tradition…”

“It’s… kind of outdated.” Laslow rapidly spoke, wishing he just kept his mouth shut, though he knew it was too late now, “But my mother is traditional. It’s how she…” Laslow gave a small smile, “Responded to my father’s proposal.”

“Ah… I… see.” Xander coughed again, cheeks still pink, “Very well I’ll… leave you to your dancing.”

“Thank you, milord.” Laslow managed to say.

As soon as Xander was gone, Laslow collapsed onto the ground, a stilted laugh escaping his mouth silently. It took him a long time before he stood up again.

~

Morning arrived and Laslow immediately shoved the memories from the night and meticulously went through his morning routine. Washing up. Walking to the dining hall. Getting breakfast. Eating breakfast… Laslow speared a sausage and chewed absentmindedly. He had to report to Xander, and the idea set butterflies in his stomach. Laslow finished his breakfast, heart starting to gallop. He could do it… so long as he mentally prepared himself…

The door to the dining hall opened, Xander walking in. Laslow squeaked and nearly dropped his plate. Xander looked over, but Laslow ducked his head, staring at the table, eyes tracing the grain of the wood.

“You… all right or what?” Selena’s voice drifted at his side.

Laslow focused on it, turning his head. Selena was sitting down, setting a rather full plate in front of her. Odin was trailing too, a tome in his hands, half open.

“I’m…” Laslow gave a smile, “I’m fine.”

“…Right.” Selena rolled her eyes, “Whatever you say.”

Odin reached out and touched Laslow’s forehead, “Nothing is ailing you?”

It would be easy, to tell Odin and Selena about the night before. He could heavily edit some parts, let them draw their own conclusions. But, for some reason, his conversation with Xander felt private, something to draw into his heart and keep. No one needed to know. Xander wouldn’t say anything and it could just be a memory between them. A disjointed, flailing memory, but their memory none the less. Laslow exhaled and straightened his back, feeling the twisting in his chest disappear. It was fine… he didn’t have to worry. The memory would eventually fade in both his and Xander’s minds, leaving only the bare details, the awkwardness killed with time.

“I’m fine.” Laslow said, voice firm, “Just a bit exhausted.”

**Author's Note:**

> Not pink enough: I'm leaving it ambiguous to who Laslow's father is while also slightly indulging in one of my favourite Laslow headcanons, Pink Haired! Laslow.
> 
> Dancer's Clothes: Going off the canon design from FE Heroes.
> 
> A dance, just for you: One of Dancer Inigo's lines from FE Heroes.
> 
> Warm air in the tents: I headcanon that there is a magic in Corrin/Kamui's little pocket dimension that keeps the inside of their tents and other enclosed areas warm.
> 
> Dancing alone/ Marriage proposal: My personal headcanon because I think it's adorable.


End file.
